


Quick Pro Quo

by vands88



Category: Campaign (Podcast), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Leenik, Asexuality, Asexuality and Kink existing in harmony - yay!, Bickering, Dildos, Hand Jobs, Interspecies Relationship(s), Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Tryst Can't Read, Tryst Has A Sex Kimono, Tryst Valentine: Sex Criminal (TM), talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-26 13:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12059703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vands88/pseuds/vands88
Summary: Sex is totally gross but seeing Tryst Valentine come undone is kinda cool.This is how Leenik Geelo, the asexual and emotional bounty hunter, and Tryst Valentine, the most sex-obsessed criminal in the galaxy, end up in the sweetest and yet most disturbing relationship on the Mynock.Takes place between the Phindar and Roche arcs.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave in and wrote some interspecies space porn. I'll see you other perverts in hell.

The problem with the Mynock is that there’s no such thing as privacy. Leenik has seen _far_ too many things he’d like to scrub from his memory, like Bacta doing his morning ballet in just a towel, or tripping over Lyn’s feminine products (literally) in the fresher, and that one totally gross time he walked in on his son, Tony, licking You Know What in the kitchen. So, really, walking in on Tryst masturbating should just be another totally gross and insignificant thing that is never spoken of again. But.

“Er…” Leenik stutters, frozen in the doorway of the room. His room. Looking at _his_ bottom bunk where Tryst currently lies, splayed out, entirely naked except for the loosened sex kimono lying along his arms and spread out beneath him, the rest of him only partly covered by a sheet, one smooth leg hanging off the edge and his terribly painted fingernails wrapped around his penis. 

“I needed a book,” Leenik says at the same time Tryst says, “I thought you were cooking.”

“Oh,” they say simultaneously with realisation.

Tryst’s hand doesn’t move from his penis. Leenik doesn’t move from the doorway. He feels himself flush. 

“For the cooking…” Leenik clarifies. “There’s a book. On romance cooking. Cooking for romance. I need it.”

Tryst cranes his neck towards the books stacked against the wall where _Food of Love_ sits. Leenik wonders at what point Tryst memorised his organisation system. “Okay,” he says.

“Right,” Leenik says. And still neither of them move.

“Or…” Tryst starts, and when his eyes roam from the floor up across Leenik’s body to look directly into his eyes, Leenik thinks he might actually faint. Or start puking breadsticks. It’s the same dizzying feeling. 

Leenik squeaks “Or?” just as the doors decide to close behind him, shutting out the distance noise of bickering from the rest of the Mynock. 

Tryst grins triumphantly and Leenik is transfixed as Tryst’s hand ever so slowly begins to move against his penis. Leenik swallows, suddenly dry-mouthed. 

“Or,” Tryst says, stretching against the bed, causing the sheet to expose even more of his beautiful, beautiful, body. “You could stay.”

“Stay,” Leenik says, although it was meant to be more of a question.

“Yeah,” Tryst says, and moves his hand again, this time just a lick faster. “Stay.” His voice seems to drop an octave with the last word and Leenik’s knees go weak with the sound like they do every time they kiss. But there’s always other people around when they kiss. This is… new. This is really new and Leenik can’t decide if he likes it or if he’s just really freaked out. Sex is _gross_. But Tryst is… Tryst. He doesn’t know how to process this. 

“I, er…”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Tryst says as if sensing Leenik’s hesitation, even as his hand moves and his eyes close in tandem, letting a small groan escape from between his lips. His hand is moving faster now. His eyes lock onto Leenik’s. “You can just watch, if you want.” 

Leenik feels himself falling into his eyes and barely even registers himself nodding in agreement until Tryst bites his lip in response and makes a noise that sounds something like “Nrghhh” followed by a slightly more coherent, “Good. That’s good. Okay.” 

Tryst’s eyes fall shut again and he makes a noise that sounds like he’s _dying_. Leenik wants to see exactly what made Tryst make that noise but the shadows of the room obscure his sight from the doorway, so he steels himself, and takes a couple of steps closer. Tryst’s eyes flicker open again just as Leenik approaches the bed, and Tryst’s eyes widen for a second before his tongue comes out to lick his lips. _Force_ , Leenik wants to kiss him again. Tryst must catch him staring at his lips because he smirks and then moves his leg ever so slightly to brush against Leenik’s as he stands at the bedside. Leenik reaches out to grasp the side of the top bunk just so he doesn’t fall over from a serious case of weak knees. 

He decides he needs to stop looking at Tryst’s face - at the way it keeps twisting in pleasure, at his bitten and wet lips, at the way his long hair catches on his cheeks every time his face turns into the pillow - and instead forces himself to look lower. Male human anatomy isn’t as gross as Leenik first thought. It helps that either side of the gross thing are very nice things indeed, like Tryst’s sculpted stomach that keeps clenching and unclenching with his movements, like his sharp hipbones and the little dip beside them that Leenik really wants to kiss, like the strong thighs beneath that Leenik wants to grasp in his hands. He sits down on the edge of the bed, overcome.

“Can I…?” Leenik asks and doesn’t even know how his question is going to end but Tryst doesn’t seem to care, he just nods his head frantically and says, “Yeah. Yeah anything you want. Okay? Anything.”

So Leenik thought he’d be prepared when he reached down to lay his palm over Tryst’s thigh but Tryst’s entire body practically jumps from the bed at the touch and Leenik recoils as if burnt, cradling his hand against his chest. Oh. It was his robotic hand he used. Maybe that’s not okay. “Sorry. Is that… not okay?” 

“No,” Tryst says, though it comes out really strangled, “It’s okay. It’s okay. Please-”

“Okay,” Leenik says, and this time he comes back with both hands, one palm on each thigh and it’s really cool. It’s like, his flesh hand feels the warmth and his robot hand feels the vibrations of Tryst’s body and it’s just… a really nice combo. He slides his flesh hand up Tryst’s leg, just to know what it feels like, and Tryst groans really low and really primal, and really this is all very much okay. 

He looks again at the penis. Even that doesn’t seem totally gross from here. And it must feel pretty nice if Tryst is touching it so much. It looks a bit weird, not at all like Leenik’s, and he’s kinda curious to know what it is about touching it that makes Tryst face so flush and twisted in pleasure because he looks _really_ good right now and it would be cool if Leenik knew how to make him lose his mind like that. Really _useful_ actually.

“Can I…?” Leenik asks again, but Tryst is already nodding and Leenik’s flesh hand is already moving. 

When his hand grasps Tryst’s penis, Tryst makes a gurgling groaning noise, and Leenik is about to retreat again when Tryst’s own hand wraps around his, keeping him there. “It’s good,” he reassures him. “Different, but good. Different is good.” 

“Okay…” Leenik says, still not entirely convinced, but then Tryst’s thumb gently strokes across his hand, sweeter than anything, and he relaxes once again. It’s just skin. It feels kinda weird beneath. Hard but soft. But it’s _Tryst_. And Tryst is cool, and beautiful, and being really very patient with him, so it’s all okay. 

He tries moving his hand upwards and watches as Tryst’s eyes roll all the way back into his head, his hand slipping away from where it had been atop Leenik’s. “Okay, see, that’s it,” Tryst coaches, but it’s a really weird angle, so Leenik tries to shuffle closer and his fingertips must brush against something because Tryst honest-to-Force _yelps_.

“Suction-cup fingers,” Tryst realises and sighs in happiness, melting back against the bed. “Oh my god, suction-cup fingers. Leenik. _Lee_ nik. Why have we not been doing this for the last five years? Oh my god, WHY?!” he shrieks as Leenik taps his fingertips against the side of Tryst’s penis and then drags them a little up the side, which makes Tryst pretty much lose his mind. 

“Because sex is gross,” Leenik says matter-of-factly. “And you kept calling _me_ gross.”

“Okay, that’s not-” Tryst starts to argue but now that Leenik has found what makes Tryst speechless, it’s really easy to make him stop talking. Or, at least, stop talking any sense. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck.”

Leenik stops his ministrations and glares until Tryst whines and opens his eyes. “Whaaaaaaat?” he moans.

“You’re doing your weird sweary thing again.”

“Oh my god,” Tryst says, and flops back against the pillows.

“See, and again.” 

Tryst groans and dramatically covers his eyes with his arm. “Okay, I’ll stop, I promise, it’s all kriffs and karks from here if you just PLEASE just TOUCH ME AGAIN.” 

Leenik smirks and teasingly trails a single fingertip along the length of Tryst’s penis just to see him writhe against the sheets, so flushed and incoherent, that Leenik feels more powerful than even his new hand could make him feel. 

Tryst gasps in lungfuls of air and then asks, breathlessly, “You like this, don’t you? The… power thing? Making me beg?”

Leenik feels himself flush because yes, yes he does, very much so. There’s something about seeing the unflappable sex criminal Tryst Valentine lying before you in utter ruins, begging for you, and knowing you have the power to drive him crazy, and crazier still, the fact that he’s _letting_ you. Leenik _more_ than likes it. He might even be getting addicted.

Tryst groans, having clearly read all that on Leenik’s face. “F-” and then he catches himself, “Kriff.” And Leenik nearly passes out from the joy that gives him. 

“See,” he says, adding a second fingertip to his ministrations as a reward. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Leeeenik,” Tryst moans but doesn’t get to complain for long before Leenik gets back to his task, as diligently as ever, cataloguing every little gasp and adjusting his technique until Tryst is having to muffle his screaming in the pillow. 

Tryst breaks away from biting the pillow to shower Leenik in a litany of praise that only half makes sense and Leenik focuses his attention on the head of the penis that Tryst apparently _really_ likes just as he leans over him and whispers praises of his own into Tryst’s ear, which apparently Tryst likes even more, because he suddenly arches, and barely gets out a warning, before he’s shooting semen all over his bare chest. 

Leenik leaps back because _eww gross_ but what isn’t gross is what Tryst looks like just afterwards. _Oh_ , Leenik thinks as he sits back on his haunches, _this is why people do this_. Because Tryst looks kriffing beautiful. Like the cover of a raunchy romance novel. All flushed and debauched and _glowing_. Tryst is still gasping for air, which makes his sculpted chest rise and fall, and his long hair sway around his face. And what a beautiful, beautiful, face. 

Leenik can’t help himself; he puts his hands either side of Tryst to lean over him, and ever so gently, lowers himself just enough to brush his lips against Tryst’s. Leenik feels Tryst’s breathing stutter against his mouth before he’s lifting himself back up to look down at Tryst’s wide eyes. He looks kinda stunned. 

“Do you-?” Tryst starts, then seems to shake himself out of his daze and tries again, indicating with his eyebrows towards Leenik’s groin, “I can-”

Leenik immediately scrambles away, hunching in on himself against the far corner of the bed.

“Whoa,” Tryst says, bolting up but with his hands held out in front of him in defense. “Leenik, I’m sorry, okay? We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do.”

Leenik wraps his arms around himself, still feeling horribly unsettled and confused. “I don’t like being touched… there. I don’t like any of this at all really. Normally, I mean. I don’t do… that. But that was okay. I think it was okay. It was... weird. I dunno.”

Tryst frowns and of course he doesn’t understand. He’s Tryst Valentine, the most sex-obsessed person in the galaxy, of course he doesn’t understand. 

But then, Tryst nods. He reaches for a towel and casually wipes himself down before lying back in bed and tying his sex kimono back up, covering his private parts. Leenik instantly feels himself relax, letting out the breath he’d been holding. It’s just him and Tryst again. No sex. No pressure. Just him and Tryst. 

Leenik stares at the closed door ahead, focusing on his breathing. He touched a penis. He touched _Tryst_ ’s penis. They said… things. Weird things. Weird _sex_ things. 

“Okay...” Tryst says, his voice all gravelly and Leenik flushes with the knowledge it was him that did that. It does well to break him out of his funk. Tryst clears his throat, and then speaks somewhat normally, “No sex. For you, at least. Got it. But you wanna…?”

The silence goes on for a long time so Leenik turns his head to puzzle out what it is that Tryst can’t say. Tryst is half-lying back down, propped against the pillows against one side of the bed, with an arm outstretched across the other side, and Leenik works out that the word Tryst can’t say is “cuddle.” 

“I thought you didn’t-” Leenik starts.

“Yeah, and I thought you’d never touch a dick. Quick pro quo.”

Leenik sighs. “I’m pretty sure it’s _quid_ pro quo.”

“No, it’s _definitely_ quick pro quo. Like, a quick, professional… deal thing. I don’t even know what quids are and I don’t care to because guess what? Not a word. _Quick_ is a word.”

“Oh really? Spell it.”

Leenik sees Tryst’s outstretched hand clench a little and is pleased to know that touching Tryst’s penis has not diminished the burn in any way.

“You’re really making me regret offering this now. If you don’t want-”

“No, I want!” Leenik says and leaps across the bed into Tryst’s arm.

“Ow,” Tryst says, wincing, and then watches in dismay as Leenik tosses and turns against him trying to get comfortable.

Leenik eventually decides to rest his head against Tryst’s shoulder with an arm thrown over his chest and a leg hooked around one of Tryst’s. 

“Comfortable?”

Leenik shrugs, but he loves that when Tryst laughs, he can feel the vibrations through his chest. Tryst’s arm comes to encircle Leenik and for a while they just lay there, Tryst dozing slightly and his fingertips circling against Leenik’s shoulder every now and then in a way that makes Leenik sigh happily against his chest.

All respect to Bacta when he interrupts their naptime sometime later by shouting about burnt ham; he just strides in, freezes, and then backs out again with his arms raised. “I don’t even _want_ to know.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...chapter 2? Tryst gets pegged???


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leenik gets Feelings, Tryst gets pegged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, you guys are such _enablers_. This is entirely your fault. 
> 
> Now, er, if I can get serious for a moment... Leenik really does butt up (ha. butt.) against his asexuality in this chapter. I know we got into it a little last chapter but now we're taking things further and he's very uncomfortable at times, so if you think that might make _you_ uncomfortable, maybe skip this one. It's written from Tryst's POV though and Tryst handles his freak outs pretty well - like, I'm ace, and if anyone ever was this considerate to me, I'd probably get down on one knee - and they talk about things and it ends happily ever after but I just wanted to warn you lovely people in case you find it jarring. 
> 
> Okay, now onwards to the porn!

Tryst thinks the whole fucking-Leenik-but-not-actually- _fucking_ -Leenik thing is going pretty well considering that the Empire came a knocking before they even hit round two. 

Normally Tryst screws things up before he’s even out of bed but it’s been nearly two weeks since the spontaneous handjob, and between blaster battles and bickering, Tryst thinks they’re actually doing okay. There’s been some making out in closets, and some sexy (like… _weirdly_ sexy) handholding while on the run, and so much flirting that even Neemo made barfing gestures behind their backs. 

Things are gooooooood. And even more so now they’re back on the new and improved Mynock and they’ve got a new bedroom to break in. With soundproofing. (Turns out Lyn wasn’t joking about that part.) It’s not a sex dungeon like Tryst had suggested, in fact, it’s a pretty standard room except for the hidden compartment underneath the bed full of sex toys and a single brochure about abstinence from Bzzzx.

The bed is big and luxurious and sooooo comfortable. Tryst just lies there in his casual kimono, face down on the silk sheets, making inappropriate noises at just how good it feels because MAN does it feel good. 

His door slides open and Tryst groans, making a mental note to put a code on that damn thing before Tamlin walks in on him one day in a compromising position.

“What?” he mutters into the sheets because even a Star Destroyer would have a hard time moving him from his bed right now. 

“Er…”

Tryst turns over at the sound of Leenik’s voice.

“The others were fighting over the new dojo, so I thought I’d…”

 _Oh god, yes PLEASE._ Tryst clears his throat in an attempt to _chill the fuck out_ because he’s getting way too into this and Leenik might not be here for funtimes at all. “Yeah, cool,” he says, because whatever Leenik wants, it’s probably cool. 

Tryst leans up on his elbows as Leenik approaches and tries to look eager but not _too_ eager and it’s a near impossible task because Leenik is already blushing an adorable shade of yellow. 

Leenik sighs and lowers himself to the bed, stretching himself out alongside Tryst. For cuddling, maybe? Or kissing time? But, no, Leenik is just looking at the ceiling, looking sad and awkward, and what the kriff is Tryst meant to do with that?!

“Uh…” Tryst starts. “You okay there, Nik?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

So, _no_. 

Tryst sighs, and says the dreaded words, “You wanna talk?”

“Urgh, no.”

Tryst smirks. Maybe they’re not totally unsuited for each other after all. 

Tryst rolls over to look at him, head propped up on his hand. “You wanna tell me what I can do to make it better?” he says in what, with any other person, would be a suggestive way.

Leenik sighs, and for a while doesn’t say anything. Then, he turns his face towards Tryst, his beautiful big eyes full of galaxies and mysteries, and asks, “Can you kiss me? Kinda slow? I like it sometimes when you kiss me slow.”

Tryst’s heart melts a little and he doesn’t know who’s more pathetic; Leenik for saying it, or Tryst for wanting it so badly. 

“Sure,” Tryst says with a smile, but doesn’t go straight for Leenik’s lips because he’s still weirdly tensed up. Instead, he kisses his cheek, and his forehead, and the tip of his little antenna, until he feels Leenik relax underneath him, and only then does he capture his lips. 

Tryst isn’t good at slow. Or romance. Or whatever the fuck it is Leenik wants out of this. But Leenik ishis bestieand he’d probably get off with a bantha if Leenik asked him to, so, really, what’s a little cuddling and kissing between friends? Especially when Leenik flushes and whimpers and acts twenty other different kinds of cute beneath him. 

Tryst pulls away but Leenik follows him with his lips and they indulge in a few more chaste kisses before Tryst falls back down beside him with a none-too-obvious boner under his kimono. 

Tryst leaves his arm hanging over Leenik’s chest, more instinctively than anything, because he’s learnt that Leenik likes to keep a point of physical contact even when they’re not doing anything. 

“Wow,” Leenik says breathlessly.

Tryst kinda finds himself agreeing. Kissing Leenik is _always_ good. But more importantly, that slow make out session provided some A+ material for his wank bank, and apparently had the bonus of making Leenik relax. There’s even a smile on his face now; no sign of his previous stress. “You feeling better?” he asks though, just to make sure.

“Uh-huh. Thank you.”

Tryst frowns. “You don’t have to thank me, Leenik. I like kissing you.”

“But you like other things more.”

“...Is that what’s bothering you?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okaaaaay.”

But, lo and behold, two seconds later: “I guess I’m just… I dunno, afraid that I won’t like stuff.”

Tryst rubs his hand over his face because he is _really_ tired and puzzling out Leenik is hard work. “You liked it last time. Right?”

“Sure. But I… might not again. I don’t know.”

Tryst takes a deep breath, steeling himself for a discussion about Feelings. “That’s okay, Nik. I’m not gonna be offended if we’re doing something and we have to stop. We don’t even have to do stuff at all if you don’t want-”

“No! I want!” Leenik interrupts before Tryst can even finish. “I wanna _try_. With you. I wanna keep trying sex stuff with you.”

“Okay, cool,” Tryst says, and before either of them can overthink it, loops his arms around Leenik and pulls him on top of him.

Leenik squeaks in surprise. “What are you…? What are you doing?”

“You’re in control, remember?” Tryst says, and dials up the Valentine smile to full wattage. “Every time you wanna try stuff, you can. You can do _whatever you want to me_ ,” he whispers seductively, stretching out beneath him teasingly. He locks his eyes onto Leenik’s. “ _Use me._ ”

And _holy shit_ does that do the job. Leenik snaps out of his shyness and forcefully pins Tryst’s wrists to the mattress above them, clasped together in his single mechanical hand. And that really, _really_ , does something for Little Tryst. Tryst’s hips instinctively buck upwards, a groan escaping from his lips, and the little bit of doubt in Leenik’s eyes disappears entirely.

“Yes,” Tryst says on a sigh, testing the strength of the hold because it’s _so good._

“You really like this,” Leenik states, as if it’s at all in doubt. 

And OF COURSE TRYST REALLY LIKES THIS. But Tryst takes a couple of steadying breaths and attempts to talk Leenik through Kink 101. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. You wanna know why?”

Leenik nods and puts his flesh hand on Tryst’s hip, pressing down a little, which is far more distracting than it ought to be.

“You could kill me with that thing,” he says casually, his eyes rolling up to indict Leenik’s robotic hand, “but you _won’t_.”

Leenik still seems deep in thought, using the thumb on his flesh hand to rub little circles into Tryst’s hip. Tryst is both intensely turned on and melting a little with feelings and also, honestly, a little scared. The hottest combination of them all. 

Tryst manages to strangle out a couple more words, “Giving you power. It’s a trust thing.”

“Ooooooh, I see,” Leenik says with realisation, “You’re _flirting with danger_.”

“Uh-huh. Very Tryst Valentine once you think about it, huh? And you’re secretly vindictive and hungry for power so of course you thought to pin me -”

“I am not power-”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tryst mocks, “Did you, or did you not, replace your missing hand with a high-grade killing machine?” 

Leenik tightens the grip of said killing machine. Tryst whines. Leenik leans down right into his space, and for one wildly intoxicating and terrifying moment, Tryst thinks he may actually have crossed a line and is about to be murdered mid-sex act (which, honestly, is how he always thought it would go down) before Leenik loosens his grip and goes in for a gentle kiss instead. Tryst sighs into it and relaxes into what he’s sure is just Kissing Time until he feels Leenik’s flesh hand untying his kimono.

He thinks he feels Leenik shaking a little with nerves. Tryst breaks the kiss to comfort him only for it to turn into a groan as one of Leenik’s suction-cup fingertips trails up his dick. Holy shit, he hit the jackpot with Leenik, he really did. His visible reaction must be enough to give Leenik the confidence to touch him further and soon he’s doing that little trick at the tip of Little Tryst that would have him coming in seconds if he didn’t do anything.

“Wait,” Tryst gasps breathlessly. “Please.”

Leenik retreats, confused. “I thought you liked that.”

Aw kriff, another explanation that Tryst is going to fuck up. “I _do_. But I also…” 

_What, Tryst Valentine?_ He argues with himself, _Want this to last longer? That’s the sappiest shit you’ve ever-_

“...want to try something.”

Which is, at least, true. 

“Something I think that _you_ ’ll like. That you’ll like doing to me, I mean,” he adds before Leenik can get the wrong idea and freak out. “If you want?”

Leenik looks skeptical. For a moment, Tryst thinks about backing out and going back to what they know Leenik is comfortable with, but also… if this works. _Oh god, if this works_ … Tryst whines at the thought alone.

“Let me up a minute,” he asks. “I’ll show you.”

Leenik does, and Tryst squeezes his hand on his way out of bed just for reassurance, before he starts rooting around underneath his bed. He notices as he’s doing so that there’s little red marks around his wrists and grins triumphantly. This is _amazing_. He returns with a strap-on dildo and a bottle of lube big enough to supply an entire army.

Leenik freaks out.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay,” Tryst says, dropping the supplies on the bedside table and crawling back over to Leenik who is breathing rapidly and not saying a damn thing. “You don’t have to do anything, okay? This is all just stuff for me. I’m just gonna start touching myself and you can just watch. Give me orders, if you want. Tell me how pretty I look. That sound okay?” Tryst asks, stroking down Leenik’s clothed arm. 

Leenik makes a strangled noise, like he can’t quite decide. 

Tryst leans into him a little, peppering little kisses against his mouth. “You love telling me how pretty I look. Hey, Leenik,” he whispers, “Tell me how pretty I look.”

Leenik huffs and turns his head into the kiss, deepening it a little, before pulling away. “You’re such an egotistical-”

“Pffft,” Tryst dismisses. “You love me.”

And, _shit_. 

Sure, they’ve said they love each other countless times before but as FRIENDS. But you can’t kiss each other like that and then say the L word (the other one, not lesbians) because that’s not a friends thing, that’s a scary gross thing. And now Tryst is the one freaking out.

“Show me,” Leenik says. 

“Wh-? What?” 

“Show me what you like,” Leenik says, nodding towards the bedside table. It’s more like an order this time. Tryst wonders just how visible his freak out was if Leenik is now confidently ordering him to shove a dildo up his ass just to distract him. 

“Right,” Tryst says in a hurry. “I can do that. Yes. Good.” He practically scrambles away to grab the lube and the strap-on.

His hands are still shaking a little as he pours the lube onto his fingers. 

“Tell me what you’re doing,” Leenik orders. 

Leenik’s watching intensely, fully clothed and cross-legged on the bed an arm’s length away, as Tryst kneels before him naked. And Tryst doesn’t know if it’s Leenik’s authoritative voice, or the visual power play here, or if it’s just Leenik looking at him like he’s the most fascinating thing in the world, but it totally works to get Tryst (and Little Tryst) back in the game. 

“I’m putting lube on my fingers.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes fucking myself easier.”

“How does it feel?”

Tryst rubs the warming, sticky, substance in his hand, pensively, but there’s really only one answer he can give. 

“Like a panini.”

Leenik glares at him. Tryst _knows_ he found it funny though. Leenik always flushes a bit more blue when he finds something funny and isn’t laughing. 

“Oh, come on,” Tryst says, as he widens his stance across the bed to give him access. “You love a good panini / sex comparison.” Though the end of his jibe is lost in a little sigh as the tip of his finger makes contact and he begins circling his entrance. 

“But maybe,” Leenik says, his eyes darker than usual, his mouth a little agape. “That’s not what I want to hear right now. _How does it feel?_ ” 

His voice is low and authoritative and makes Tryst whimper as he breaches his entrance. “So good. It feels _so_ good. Tight. Like… pressure. Heat. Oh my god, _Leenik_ ,” he whines because Leenik is watching him so intensely it feels like he’s touching him himself. 

Tryst has to close his eyes in pleasure as he works himself open and Leenik makes him describe every moment of it. Tryst is flushed and shaking and probably looking utterly wrecked by the time he’s three fingers deep, and Leenik is leaning towards him, like he just can’t help himself, inching ever closer. 

“Oh god, Leenik, _please_ ,” Tryst says, and he doesn’t even know what he’s begging for until Leenik surges forward and presses his lips against his. Tryst immediately relaxes against him, his spare hand grasping at Leenik’s jacket, which Tryst only now realises is one of _his_ jackets. Holy shit, when did _that_ happen?!

Leenik cradles his gross, sweaty, red face. “You look so pretty, sweetheart. You look so pretty for me.” 

Tryst whines and burrows into Leenik’s shoulder, letting him pet him for a little while. Tryst nearly cries at how good it feels. 

“Can I-?” Leenik asks and Tryst could not care one bit about how that sentence ends, nodding his head enthusiastically against Leenik’s shoulder. 

Leenik trails his mechanical hand down Tryst’s side, giving him time to object, but there’s no way in hell Tryst is objecting to this. Of course Leenik feels safer testing new things out with his invincible hand and Tryst would be lying if he said he didn’t find it hot. Hell, the first time Leenik touched him with it, he nearly jumped out of his skin he was turned on so much.

Tryst murmurs words of encouragement as he guides Leenik’s single outstretched finger inside him. Leenik stills slightly, like he doesn’t know if he likes the sensation. 

“Show me,” he says in a steady voice. “Show me the place that made you scream.” 

Tryst shudders against his shoulder and uses his finger inside to gently guide Leenik’s own towards his prostrate. The metal grazes it, just slightly, but it’s enough to make Tryst jerk and shout and swear profusely. 

“I don’t know if I like it,” Leenik is murmuring while Tryst is still high as a fucking kite from that single touch.

Tryst groans in an attempt to regain some sanity. “S’ok,” he mutters as Leenik retreats. “You don’t have to. Got a better idea,” he says as he blindly reaches for the dildo. “Put this in me.”

Leenik’s eyes widen. He looks so turned on, honestly, but who knows if that’s a thing Leenik does. Either way, he seems totally up for this. 

“You can, er, move it by holding the straps,” he explains carefully, because things are going _so_ well and he’s not about to freak Leenik out by telling him that he has to wear it. A dildo is a dildo, it’s gonna feel good regardless. 

Leenik takes it from his hand and studies it for a minute. “Is this meant to be a human replica? It’s bright purple.”

“Who the kark cares, Leenik? Put it in me.”

Leenik glares at him for his insolence. Why can’t Leenik punish him in the usual, fun, ways for being a mouthy sub? Tryst _actually_ feels guilty when Leenik looks at him like that, which is so not cool. 

“Please,” Tryst amends. “Please will you kriff me with the colour-inaccurate dildo?”

Leenik huffs in amusement. “Better,” he praises and rewards Tryst with a deep kiss. 

They’re now both kneeling on the bed, only an inch away from each other, and Tryst thought Leenik might get freaked out by his dick being so close, but he seems to be doing okay as he grasps the straps on the dildo in his metal fist and brings it towards Tryst’s entrance. He wonders how different this moment of penetration must be from Leenik’s romance novels, and if, on some level it bothers him. But that’s the last coherent thought he has as the toy breaches his rim and he grasps the shoulders of Leenik’s jacket to stay upright as his entire body is overtaken with sensation. 

He’s about to let out a string of curses when he remembers Leenik’s aversion to the words and he really, _really_ , doesn’t want to be punished right now, so what actually comes out is a string of kriffs and karks instead. 

When he finally manages to open his eyes, Leenik is only centimeters away, looking at him with wonder and pride. He’s telling him how pretty he looks. Telling him he’s a _good boy_ , and, god, Tryst is never going to survive this. 

Leenik begins to move the toy and Tryst whimpers with how good it feels, occasionally bumping his head against Leenik’s to kiss him or just to rest against him.

He’s so overtaken with pleasure that he barely hears Leenik’s murmur about the wrong angle until the toy is being taken away. “Wh-?” Tryst manages.

“I said, the angle’s not good. It’s hurting my hand.”

Tryst blinks, trying to break through the haze of pleasure. _Leenik needs help. Come on, Tryst, make words!_ Tryst clears his throat. “Okay. We can try…” He takes the slick dildo from Leenik’s hands and holds it flat on the surface of the bed instead while he finds the word. “Keep it still, I move.” 

“But it’ll move?”

“Anchor.” 

“Oh, okay.”

And before Tryst is even aware of the toy moving, Leenik is frowning at the straps, trying to make them fit around his legs or something.

“Wait, wait, Nik,” Tryst mumbles, and kinda straps it to Leenik over his tented trousers on auto-pilot before realising that he might not be okay with his. It would put their groins _really_ close together and his dick would probably be rubbing against Leenik’s chest too. “Sorry, I, er… you don’t have to-” 

“No, no, that makes sense. I wanna try. Come on.”

Tryst slowly moves to straddle Leenik’s legs as he kneels on the bed, giving him plenty of time to back out. But he’s not freaking out. Probably because, Tryst realises, that would involve looking away from Tryst’s face which Leenik looks like he’s not gonna do anytime soon. Tryst slowly sinks down onto his lap, feeling the stretch of the toy in him again, and the tantalizing brush of his dick against Leenik’s shirt, and when he opens his eyes, he realises why Leenik must be having a hard time looking away. This puts them _really_ close to each other. Their lips are a milimetre away from brushing, Leenik’s eyes are blurring before him, too close to see, and he can see every nuance of Leenik’s Rhodian skin. This is… crazy intimate. 

Tryst’s eyes flutter shut, one hand pressing against Leenik’s back for leverage for when he starts to move, and the other gently rubbing the back of his neck in comfort. Leenik’s hands have cautiously come to rest on Tryst’s hips. Tryst tilts his head to kiss Leenik, ever so softly. “You okay?” he asks, to be sure.

Leenik hums in contentment, which Tryst takes as an okay, as he braces his legs on the bed and begins to move. It feels _so good_ from this angle. He realises if he tilts his hips just right on the downstroke, he can hit his prostrate, and every time he does, he hears Leenik groan a little in unison. He can feel Leenik getting harder beneath him and he doesn’t know what to make of that. It’s a conversation they haven’t had. Does he want to get hard? Does he want to come? And fuck knows how Rhodian biology even works. But Leenik is still being vocal, still encouraging Tryst on, so he must be doing okay, and it feels _so good_. 

He chases the pleasure, working himself hard on Leenik’s lap. He’s been hard for an hour now and he just wants to come so, so, bad. He can feel it building inside but his legs are shaking and he can barely keep his eyes open.

Leenik is murmuring again and Tryst forces himself to leave the haze long enough to listen. “-you’re so tired, sweetheart. Let me help. What can I do to help?” 

Tryst groans because he’s long past making words but Leenik is so good to him, of course he noticed, of course he wants to help. He could just ask Leenik to touch him with those beautiful fingers, but Tryst knows what he wants. More than anything. But. “It’ll be too much, Nik,” he murmurs against Leenik’s ear. “It’ll be too much.”

“Nrrgh,” Leenik weakly argues, “Lemme try.”

And Tryst is too exhausted to fight him on this. “Okay, okay,” he says, softly petting Leenik’s head as he gently pulls them both down to the bed, Leenik falling atop him.

“Oh,” Leenik says, but it’s not a complaint. “You want me to-? Yeah, I can try that.”

And Tryst nearly cries in happiness. “You’re so good, so good to me-” 

Neither of them are capable of sentences right now, but Leenik makes the first, tentative move, and Tryst nearly loses it. Leenik’s fucking him. Oh god, Leenik’s _fucking him_. It feels so much better in a way that doesn’t even make sense. 

He moves out and comes back deeper, but still cautiously, and again, but this time… _fuck_ … this time it hits his prostrate and Tryst _keens_ at the sensation. “ _Leenik_ ,” he cries, and instinctively wraps his legs and arms around Leenik, effectively pinning him against him. Too much. It’s going to be too much.

But, Leenik - beautiful, wonderful, ingenious Leenik - knows it, and without preamble, grasps his fucking wrists and pins them above their heads as he thrusts into him again. Shit, shit, _shit_.

He’s two seconds from coming and Leenik knows it, murmuring encouragements and even his _permission_ , squeezing his mechanical hand harder against Tryst’s wrists, rubbing the dildo deep and repetitive against his prostrate, and then, oh god, _then_ , flicking his suction-cup fingers against the tip of his penis. 

Tryst screams. He knows he screams. Loud enough for the whole Mynock to hear as he comes, long and hard. He strains forward, like the orgasm is literally being torn from him, streaks of semen falling against his chest. He speaking out loud but he doesn’t know what. His mind becomes as peaceful as deep space. Floating. He’s stroking Leenik’s head, his arm, kissing anywhere he can reach. 

He comes down, slowly, to find Leenik twitching above him. He’s not moving away, but he’s not speaking either. He’s not making eye contact.

 _Fuck_.

It was too much. He fucking knew it was too much. And he did it anyway. _Tryst, you piece of shit._

Tryst attempts to sit up, and Leenik stumbles back into sitting with him, the dildo slipping out between them. Tryst is still shaking but he determinedly cups Leenik’s cheek before he can look down see the evidence still strapped to him. “Hey, are you okay? Leenik, hey, talk to me, are you okay?”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Leenik shakes his head, and it breaks Tryst’s heart. He tries to look away, but Tryst won’t let him, cupping his cheeks with both hands. “Can you… can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I…” Leenik starts, and when it doesn’t look like he can finish, Tryst leans forward and presses his lips softly against his in reassurance. Leenik takes a deep breath and tries again, “I don’t like coming. Or masturbating. Or being touched.”

“Okay,” Tryst says, because he knew that. Or, at least, he knew two out of three. 

“I like…” he blushes, and Tryst will never stop finding it adorable. This time he lets him look away when he admits, ever so quietly, “You get me worked up sometimes. I like that. I like you. But I don’t like when I get too worked up, when I get _too_ close.”

“And that got you to close to coming?”

Leenik nods shamefully. 

“Okay,” Tryst says because now he kinda gets it. He doesn’t like it when an asteroid gets too close to the Mynock. It’s fun dodging space trash up to a point… but, like, too close and he freaks the fuck out. Orgasms must be like that for Leenik. “Okay, we’ll find a way round it. But for now… do you wanna, I dunno, meditate the boner away or some shit, while I hop in the fresher?”

Leenik looks _delighted_ by this proposal, like everything can be solved by meditation and Tryst washing the come off his chest. 

Unless… it was the other thing. Did Leenik think that was gonna be a dealbreaker? Did he think Tryst would run away just because this was too much work or something? Because… like, _of course_ they’re gonna work it out, they always do.

“Hey,” Tryst says softly, “I like this thing with you, you know.”

The tops of Leenik’s little antennae flush yellow like he does when he’s feeling sentimental and before he can say something gross and romantic over what was just a simple statement of fact, Tryst goes in for a mushy-kinda kiss. 

He breaks away a second later, his hands hovering over Leenik’s hips, “Kiss me again, okay? So I can take this thing off without you having to think about it, alright?” 

Leenik tenses and then softens in the span of a split second and goes in for another kiss as Tryst removes the strap-on as delicately as he can.

Once it’s off, he kinda hides it out of view behind him, and pecks Leenik one more time before standing up. “Gonna shower. You do your meditation or whatever.” 

Leenik’s hands linger for a little while on his face so Tryst dives back in to give him another little peck before fully rising. He attempts to straighten the sheets and stuff as he goes to make Leenik feel more at ease, and kicks the lube and dildo under the bed to deal with later as he slinks off to the fresher. 

He’s in and out within five minutes, not really wanting to leave Leenik alone for longer than that in case he’s not okay, and wraps a clean kimono around himself. 

He returns to see Leenik doing some kinda weird bendy yoga on his floor dressed in some kinda long silk pyjamas. Like… what the fuck. But Tryst is also kinda mesmerised, standing in the doorway for a fraction too long to be called normal. He’s just had the best orgasm of his life, but he’s also kinda planning a new thing they can try when he sees Leenik bend into a position that Tryst seriously did not think was possible. 

He skirts around Leenik’s exercises to make himself comfortable on the bed, thankful to see that it’s not actually too disgusting considering what they’ve just done on it because he is _really_ tired and not up for a relocation. 

“Are you… checking me out?” Leenik asks after a while.

“Of course I am,” Tryst says, leaning back against the pillows, with his ankles crossed at the foot of the bed. “The cute Rhodian I’m seeing is getting all bendy right in front of me, of course I’m watching. But seriously, is it cuddling time now? I’m tired.”

Leenik comes out of a move looking both flustered and incredibly happy. “Since when do you request cuddling time?” 

“Since I’m tired!” Tryst says indignantly. 

Normally he’d be embarrassed because cuddling is, factually, the worst part of sex, but Leenik _really_ likes it and he totally deserves a night of quality cuddling after what he just did for Tryst. Cuddling basically _is_ sex for Leenik based on the noises he makes during it. He’s the most physically affectionate person Tryst has ever met and it only takes hooking pinky fingers in the middle of a clipboard meeting to make him _melt_. Tryst is learning to love it if only because Leenik does… which, he supposes, is why Leenik is trying the sex thing too. Quick Pro Quo. 

Leenik crawls under the covers beside him, with only a quick disgusted sniff at the bedsheets, before completely covering Tryst’s body with his own and releasing a contented sigh. 

Tryst laughs a little before placing a hand firmly over Leenik’s back and rubbing it affectionately. He’s kinda heavy, but Leenik will move to a new position in five minutes anyway, so there’s no use complaining. 

Sometimes, his hand catches on Leenik’s pyjamas, but it’s only a mild inconvenience. Leenik’s going to get more comfortable as time moves on, Tryst reckons; as the trust builds between them the layers might disappear. Maybe not all the way. Maybe Leenik will always feel he has to wear some clothes as protection to feel comfortable in the bedroom, but time will tell.

Honestly, Tryst would probably be happy even if all they did was this cuddling-thing for the rest of time. It’s pretty sweet. 

Tryst lets his eyes flutter shut and sleepily decides to tell Leenik this. “Hey, Nik?”

“Yeah?” Leenik murmurs into his chest. 

“This is pretty nice.”

Leenik lets out a contented sigh. “Yeah, it is,” he says and nuzzles a little closer. 

Tryst tightens his arms around Leenik and kisses his forehead. He’s about to say the rest of it when something else occurs to him. “Hey, Nik?”

“Hmm.”

“Did I…?” Tryst says, trying to remember. “When I was coming… did I…?”

 _Tell you that I loved you_.

“Huh,” Leenik says with a frown. “Yeah, I think you did.”

“Oh,” Tryst says, as he drifts into sleep. “Cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I made it sappy, but you try writing Leenik Geelo without making it sappy. 
> 
> Feedback loved. Incoherent wailing noises loved even more. <3


End file.
